


Bed Head

by moonintheknight



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-31
Updated: 2014-08-31
Packaged: 2018-02-15 14:14:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2232015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonintheknight/pseuds/moonintheknight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's nothing Dick likes more than waking up in Bruce's bed. A look into a quiet moment of Bruce and Dick's relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bed Head

He was the first one up, for once.

On the rare occasions where Dick Grayson actually got the chance to sleep in Bruce Wayne’s California king bed, he usually was passed out until the older man kissed him awake. The bed was ridiculously luxurious, much better than his barely-adequate spring mattress queen in Bludhaven, the sheets of the finest 1020 thread-count Egyptian cotton money could buy. Plus, it _smelled_ like Bruce, which to Dick was the most comforting smell in the world. 

All good reasons to never want to get out of bed. Besides the beautiful, nearly-naked man lying next to him of course.

So Dick was surprised he was awake first. It was almost completely dark in the room due to Bruce’s extreme light-blocking curtains, but a little sunlight was peeking from underneath them. Dick blinked the sleep from his eyes and peeked up from under the covers at the clock; it was just past noon. 

Guess Bruce isn’t going into the office today.

He rolled over lazily to look at his sleeping partner and suppressed a laugh. Bruce was sprawled out on his back, his mouth slightly open, snoring softly, and his hair adorably mussed from sex and sleep. Dick smiled to himself. “Adorable” was probably not a word commonly used to describe the Batman, but Bruce looked almost peaceful when he slept. 

Dick didn’t have to wonder why Bruce was still conked out. Last night had been the first time they had seen each other in over a month—Bruce had been away with the League, then Dick had obligations with the Titans and Outsiders, etcetera—so needless to say, they had felt the need to make up for lost time. When Bruce had found Dick waiting for him when he got back from patrol, he dragged Dick upstairs and essentially ravished him.

It was rare to see Bruce so enthusiastic, and it made Dick preen a little bit to think that he caused so much _passion_ in the man.

He loved Bruce’s passion; the way the man could be extremely physical and dominating was thrilling. Dick was no weakling, but Bruce was a huge, powerful figure, and to have that gorgeous, masculine body surround him, contort him, _stretch_ him was a vey heady thing indeed.

He loved it even more when Bruce gave him that _look_ , though. 

Sometimes, when they were making love, Bruce would look up at him with the most adoring, caring, disbelieving expression, like he couldn’t believe Dick was there, with him, doing _this_. Dick had never seen him look at anyone like that before. He could get lost in those blue eyes, those pools so deep and dark it was almost like you could fall into them. That was how they spent their nights together, a mix of aggressive enthusiasm and profound, unspoken affection. And Dick couldn’t get enough.

He was yanked out of his reverie by a particularly loud snore by Bruce, who rolled over closer to Dick. He laughed as Bruce’s deep, manly snores reverberated in his ear. 

“Bruce.”

Bruce didn’t react. 

Dick propped himself up on his elbow and poked the older man in the arm. “Bruuuce,” he singsonged. “Wake upppp…”

“Mnh—five more minutes, Alfred,” Bruce murmured sleepily, still not opening his eyes. Dick chucked and was about to shake him awake when Bruce wrapped an arm around him and pulled Dick up against him.

As sweaty and vaguely awkward as it was to be mashed up against Bruce’s broad chest, it was also kind of nice. Dick shifted a little, trying to get his mouth out of Bruce’s chest hair, but Bruce just tightened his hold around him and started snoring again, his breath rustling Dick’s already-mussed hair.

“Hey,” Dick managed to say, his breathing becoming somewhat restricted by his grip. “Get up!”

Bruce’s eyes snapped open in alarm, and his entire body tensed as if he didn’t know where he was. “Oh.” He blinked confusedly down at Dick, who had started to laugh again, and quickly removed his arm.

“Good morning,” Dick giggled softly as Bruce rubbed his eyes wearily, an act which made him look more like pouty a ten-year-old boy than a debonair playboy. It was incredibly endearing. “Sorry to wake you…I didn’t think you wanted to sleep the day away.”

“Hm. Maybe I did.” Bruce said grumpily. His look softened somewhat when he glanced back over at Dick, who had propped him up on his elbow again and was smirking mischievously. 

“What.”

“You almost crushed me there, big guy.”

Bruce snorted. “I’m _sure_.” As sleepy and grouchy as he still was, Bruce’s eyes trailed curiously down Dick’s lean frame to where the sheets stopped just below his hips. 

“You did,” Dick shifted closer. “I think you should make it up to me.” 

Bruce, still lying on his back, lazily grabbed Dick and pulled him on top of him. Dick wiggled his hips a little against Bruce’s and leaned down to kiss his neck. The older man let out a quiet, low groan and dropped his head back on his pillow, his eyes fluttering shut. Dick looked at him inquisitively. When was the last time he had seen Bruce this relaxed?

“Hey, don’t go back to sleep…”

“I’m not,” Bruce rumbled, rubbing Dick’s back with one large hand. His eyes were still closed.

“You know, you look _really_ cute when you’re like this,” Dick blurted.

Bruce gave him an incredulous look. “What?”

“I’m being serious,” Dick ground his hips again and kissed around Bruce’s collar bone. “You do.” He looked up again to see that Bruce was looking down rather abashedly, and—was that a _blush_ on his face?

Dick had always thought Bruce was the most handsome man he had ever met, ever _would_ meet, and his beauty was always catching him off guard in little ways. For his part, Bruce didn’t seem to think he was desirable at all, and always got a little embarrassed when Dick complimented him. But not this embarrassed.

“Is that a blush I see?” Dick teased, kissing up Bruce’s neck again until he got to his ear and started to lightly bite and lick it. “You look even more adorable now, I must say—”

Bruce, interrupting the ear nibbling, turned Dick’s chin so their eyes locked, and Dick stopped talking immediately. Bruce was wearing The Look again, that adoring gaze that he loved, and he stroked the pad of his thumb across Dick’s jaw.

“How did I get so lucky,” Bruce whispered softly, and Dick felt himself shiver. “You know. There’s really…no one else like you.” 

Dick leaned down and kissed him deeply on the lips, morning breath be damned, and Bruce responded in kind. When they finally broke apart, Bruce smirked at him.

“You need a shower.”

 _Rude!_ Dick smacked him lightly on the arm. “Excuse me, you do too!”

Bruce chucked, that deep baritone that made his chest shake. “Then let’s go together.”

He scooped Dick up, bridal style, and carried him over to the bathroom, and they didn’t even make it halfway across the room before they had started kissing again, and Dick almost came right there when he saw what Bruce had in his bathroom.

“Oh, right,” Bruce said breathlessly. “Did I mention that I redid this bathroom? Rain shower head, heated floors—” and he was cut off by Dick’s overenthusiastic kiss.

The perks to sleeping over at Wayne Manor were very large, indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> My hand slipped. So this was a little sappier than I wanted it to be, but...ah well. As always, let me know what you think, and thanks for reading!


End file.
